


Let Me Touch You There

by taormina



Category: Take That (Band)
Genre: Hotel Sex, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Multi, OT3, Porn with some plot, Sex Toys, Threesome, nervous!gary, progress era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-07
Updated: 2015-08-07
Packaged: 2018-04-13 12:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4521825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taormina/pseuds/taormina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gary finds out what it’s like to have a threesome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let Me Touch You There

No one really remembered who had suggested it or when, just that it felt like a very good idea at the time. Whether it was still a good idea _now_ was still left to be discovered.

Sitting on a comfortable hotel bed waiting for the whole thing to kick off, Robbie thought the initiator might have been Mark: after all, Mark was always the most creative and straightforward of the three when it came to sex. You name it, and Mark will have tried it out with or without a partner. Mark just _loved_ sex, and he never shied away from using less traditional love-making techniques if his partner consented to it. Usually, Rob did — Gary almost never; the oldest member of their threesome, he was a sucker for snuggling and kissing and generally got off at fairly straightforward things.

Mark, on the other hand, just assumed that the suggestion had come from Robbie. At the end of the day, Robbie was also very much into experimenting, and Mark knew that there were one or two kinks that his mate was still keen on looking into.

They both knew the suggestion couldn’t have come from Gary.

And yet here Gary was, about to walk right into a whole new world of sex and sexuality in the aptly liberating city of Amsterdam. Take That were there for some interviews and a performance at a talent show, and after having spent all day doing promo they finally had the entire eastern wing of an expensive hotel to themselves.

Many, many years ago the temptations of coffee shops, brand new drugs traded in murky street corners, and scantily dressed girls in windows would have nearly killed them. Now, more than ten years of wisdom and several visits to rehabilitation centres later, sex and pop ‘n’ roll were the only addictions of the holy trinity of stardom that they were still allowed to succumb to — and they were going to enjoy it to the fullest.

At first, the setup (i.e. the setup of their threesome) was rather awkward. Despite telling everyone that he’d slept with girls left and right via his subtle music videos and self-indulgent interviews, Robbie had never actually had a threesome. He would've liked to, but he just couldn't be arsed with the commitment. When he was young keeping in touch with one hot bird or lad was more than enough trouble, and as he matured threesomes weren't even that appealing anymore. That is, until now.

Gary was still a bit conservative when it came to sex (or rather, sex with men; he'd had a decent share of above average sex with women in the nineties), so the thought of having a threesome had never even crossed his mind until he suddenly had two men in his life that he loved equally. Something about pleasuring both his lovers just seemed incredibly satisfying. Not that he knew how he’d go about it, of course!

Mark _had_ had threesomes (plenty of them), but they were usually with people he didn't give a shit about. Gary and Robbie he _did_ care about. A lot.

Before Gary had so much knocked on the door of room no. 12, Mark had already opened it and welcomed his colleague with a huge grin on his face. He carried the expression of a man who had a few interesting cards up his sleeve, and Gary wasn’t sure to be intimated or aroused by it. Mark had a tendency to be overly flamboyant.

‘You awright, Mr. Barlow?’ said Mark with the air of an entrepreneur greeting a potential new client, and he led Gary into his ostentatiously luxurious hotel room. The room, which had been decorated with an elegant floral wallpaper and a soft, pastel carpet, was absolutely huge. It overlooked a quieter part of the canal and smelled faintly of fresh linen. As usual, Mark’s overflowing suitcases and scattered pieces of clothing ruined the tranquil image of the hotel room somewhat. Finally, the waterbed was large enough to host an orgy of people. (But they weren't ready for that yet.)

‘I am, thank you, Marko,’ replied Gary. He was doing his utmost not to sound nervous, but of course his overly perceptive bandmates immediately picked up on it. They both pretended otherwise. ‘Hullo, Rob.’

‘Hiya.’

As had become their custom over the past few years, the boys all had separate bedrooms. It wasn't a great agreement financially, but at least it made their manager believe that they weren't all sleeping with each other.  It also made it incredibly difficult for grown-up fans to sneak into their hotel and try to find them, which still happened occasionally. Jason finding a fan underneath his bed in Berlin one morning had been a particularly stressful moment.

When Mark and Gary started seeing each other only three years ago, Mark would sneak into Gary's hotel room in the middle of the night like he was in a goddamn spy movie, and sneak back an hour or two later with no underwear on. Mark got off tremendously at the fact that Jason and Howard were in adjacent rooms and might hear them. They didn’t have sex often (Gary was terrified that someone might find out about it), but when they did it was always the highlight of their week.

Then Robbie returned to the band back in whenever, and things became a bit more complicated: Gary knew that Mark had fancied the socks off Robbie ever since the nineties (but never acted upon it), and similarly Mark knew that Gary and Robbie's 90’s “feud” was mostly to be blamed on unresolved sexual tension. Consequently, Mark and Gary kind of “shared” Robbie until one of the three suggested they try out a threesome. It was one of those casual remarks that one usually makes after a great studio session, except instead of “Shall we have a cup of tea?” it was “Hey, you guys, I just got this great idea; why don’t we have a _threesome_?”

Gary was he most nervous about it, and he had brought a bottle of wine with him in case he needed to down one or two glasses in order to loosen up a little bit. As much as he loved sex with Mark and Robbie separately, the thought of fucking or being fucked by them both made him incredibly anxious for all the wrong reasons; what if he didn't know what to do? What if he just lay there on the bed like a big sack of potatoes? What if he came too soon? Should he have shaved? Had he gained weight again? Was this crap bottle of wine that he'd bought at some liquor store any good?

Then he remembered that Robbie and Mark both weren't allowed a drop of alcohol for various shitty reasons, and Gary immediately felt like a bit of a cock.

‘You know, now that I think about it, it _is_ a bit inconsiderate of me, bringing wine along like that,’ Gary said as he closed the door behind him and locked it. A key card was needed to get in, but he didn’t want a member of staff to accidentally walk into them shagging.

That night, Gary was wearing a black t-shirt and black trousers in a half-arsed attempt to make himself look like he hadn't put much thought into his outfit. Of course, Mark and Robbie both knew otherwise; Gary _always_ wore black when wanting to impress, and it always worked; especially Robbie absolutely loved it when Gary wore all-black. He’d had quite a few fantasies about that long, black winter coat of his . . .

Mark himself had opted for Robbie's favourite jumper/tight trousers combo. Robbie wasn't wearing much at all; a sleeveless white shirt that showed off Gary's favourite tattoos, and an old pair of jeans that hadn’t seen the light of day for years. He had shaved beforehand. Mark hadn’t. They all looked good, and they all knew it.

Mark looked over his shoulder at Robbie, who was sitting on Mark's bed comfortably. The bed was covered in pillows. ‘Are _you_ feeling like you might relapse today, Rob?’

‘Nope,’ said Robbie, shaking his head. He looked Gary up and down unceremoniously, and Gary felt a shiver that had nothing to do with how cold it was that day.

Robbie liked what he saw. Gary had clearly been working out even more lately, and it showed: his upper body looked absolutely ripped even through the thick fabric of his shirt. (Robbie himself had a bit of a beer belly going on, but Mark said he liked it, and he was going to burn it off on tour anyway.)

‘Unless you're talking about my sex addiction,’ Rob continued in a light-hearted manner, ‘In which case yes. I will absolutely succumb. No doubt about it.’

Mark faced Gary again and smiled his trademark smile. ‘You have our permission to drink alcohol in front of us.’

‘Thank God,’ said Gary, moving away from the door now, ‘I don't think I'll get through the night otherwise.’

‘Nervous, are you?’ Robbie asked him earnestly. He knew from experience that Gary was always a bit awkward when it came to sex. Not in a bad way, mind; more in a “slutty virgin” kind of manner.

‘I'm fucking terrified, mate; I already feel like I'm a sex god when I get to top every once in a while,’ Gary admitted shyly.

Mark raised an eyebrow at Robbie. This was brand new information. ‘You let him top, do you?’

‘What, _you_ don't?’

Mark shook his head and stared into the distance.

Gary sat on a chair and shakily put his bottle of wine on the writing desk behind him. There was a large mirror attached to the desk, and for a second Gary caught himself looking very red and flustered. Robbie and Mark were simply much more at ease at these types of situations than he was (or so he thought), and for a second he wondered whether it would be any use having him there at all. They'd probably have better sex if he just got up and left and had a wank on his own. (But he’d had two wanks that day already.)

‘Hey, you sure you’re okay?’ said Mark. He was looking worried. 

Robbie sat on the bed a little straighter.

Feeling nervous, Gary ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Dunno, mate, it’s just . . . What if it doesn’t work out? What if I fuck it up? I can’t — I’m not . . .’

‘Hey, don’t say that, you _dope_ , you,’ Mark said affectionately, and he went over to kiss Gary’s cheek. It was enough to make the tight knot in Gary’s stomach go away, but not enough to stop him feeling like a complete waste of space.

Spotting Gary’s discomfort, Mark gave him another kiss — lower this time, closer to Gary’s mouth.

Robbie was watching closely, secretly hoping that Mark and Gary would soon end up snogging. He’d never seen them kiss before, but he would bet all his money on it that it looked fucking spectacular.

‘You'll be fine, okay, Gary?’ said Mark. ‘We’ll take care of ya, promise.’ A peck on his lips, and Gary felt his nerves melt away properly. Mark had a way of calming Gary down with his those lips of his that Robbie quite couldn't; with Robbie, kissing was always more about who would succumb first.  

Robbie’s ways were incredibly nice too, but not when you're bloody shitting yourself.

Mark looked over his shoulder at Robbie, who was momentarily distracted by how close Mark and Gary had suddenly become. Before Gary arrived with his superfluous bottle of wine, Mark and Robbie had already agreed that tonight would be all about pleasing Gary; kissing him was definitely a part of that. (And taking advantage of his amazing body a little bit. But mostly pleasing him.) ‘ _Won't_ we, Rob?’

‘Indeed, Markie,’ Robbie agreed, distracted. ‘You're safe with us, Gaz.’

‘So,’ Mark told Gary, his voice suddenly husky, ‘May I now kiss you properly while Robbie here watches?’

_Christ. Robbie. Watching them. Wow._

Gary replied with a weird sort of squeak, and Mark took it as a yes.

‘Good boy.’ Mark lowered himself onto Gary's lap so that both of his legs were straddling Gary's thighs, and he started kissing his lover softly. They were gentle, loving kisses, the sound of lips against lips music to their ears. The heat of Mark’s legs radiated through Gary’s trousers, and Gary felt himself grow hotter himself. So far away seemed the cold November air outside the terraced entrance of their hotel now, and _so_ much closer did he want Mark to come. Gary’s hands crept down Mark’s jumper and underneath the soft, woolly fabric, circling his fingers on his lover’s bare skin.

Spurred on by the sound of a zip being pulled down – Robbie’s –, Mark's kisses quickly became open-mouthed and wet, with his lips teasingly tugging at Gary's tongue. He moved his lips to Gary's neck then, sucking the soft skin until Gary released a moan that he must've been holding for minutes.

Robbie’s cock twitched at the sound, and he palmed his cock through his boxers. He couldn’t wait to have a go and make Gary moan like that.

‘You're very horny today, Mr. Barlow,’ Mark purred into Gary's ear. It made Gary moan again. _Louder_. A lot of things turned Gary on, but having someone whisper or purr into his ear was definitely on top of the list; being a musician just made him all the more sensitive for sounds, and for some reason he _loved_ having his ears played with.

Mark kissed his earlobe then, and Gary had a feeling that Mark knew him better than he thought.

When Mark took a second to look at Robbie on the bed, Robbie had already started touching himself. He'd taken off his shirt, revealing the previously clad tattoos that Mark and Gary both loved so much: the French writing on his chest; the two glorious swallows in flight, a wordless message to the lucky few.

Mark, at the moment hating the idea of getting another tattoo himself but loving tattoos in general, had once spent an age kissing and licking every single tattoo on Robbie’s body — saving the swallows for last. He’d given Robbie one hell of a blowjob then, and licked the cum off Robbie’s abdomen drop by drop.

Robbie had zipped his trousers open and relieved himself of the discomforts of his boxers, taking the liberty to lazily rub and squeeze himself while Gary and Mark did their own thing. He was already sporting a hard-on. It was a truly glorious sight, and one that sped things into motion; Mark didn't feel like teasing them both any longer.

Mark got off Gary's lap and led his nervous lover confidently to the bed. Here, everything became a comfortable blur of body parts and shed pieces of clothing until suddenly two pairs of hands were on a completely naked Gary at the same time, pressing him onto the mattress on his back. Taking it in turns to touch him. To jerk him off. Then two mouths were on his cock – one kissing the very tip and the other, more hungrily, licking his shaft up and down – and Gary was pretty sure he'd die there and then.

Normally not a loud guy, Gary was moaning so noisily that he was afraid he’d wake the rest of the hotel up. And those _sounds_! Mark hungrily bopping his head up and down his lover’s cock, sounding deliciously close to gagging every time the tip hit the back of his throat; Robbie pecking Gary’s thighs with his chapped lips . . .

To have one lover pleasure Gary so expertly was heaven on Earth; to have _two_ naked lovers doing so at the same time was the best thing Gary had ever felt.

As far as Gary was concerned, Mark and Rob were pretty much even when it came to cocksucking skills (not that he kept score . . . !) Mark was always a bit of a tease, the bastard, whereas Robbie was extremely full-on and liked timing how fast he could make Gary come – which was fast. Very fast. Gary enjoyed both variations of the game, and as it turned out, having both his lovers tease him and suck him and swallow him at the same time was immensely enjoyable.

It's as though the three of them were on exactly the same wavelength, knowing inside out what made the others tick.

It's no wonder their music was so good.

Mark and Robbie exchanged a messy kiss, which was far sexier than Gary had ever imagined. Mark stuck his tongue down Robbie's throat unceremoniously, and Gary was pretty sure he'd just felt his cock move. They were just so _different_ , the two of them: Mark, small and taut and pretty much hairless apart from the tantalizingly sexy happy trail below his belly; Rob, big and strong, with hair all over his chest and thick legs.

After sex, Gary loved resting his head on Robbie's chest, circling Robbie's tattoos with his fingertips while he dozed off to sleep. But he also loved how much strength and utter _sex_ was hidden inside Mark's tiny body, and how erotic it was to be thoroughly pounded by someone so kind and innocent-looking.

Gary wondered what it would look like if Mark and Robbie had sex.

Mark's desperate little hands moved to Robbie's cock, and for a moment Gary thought he was about to find out. He wondered if their height difference sometimes caused trouble.

Alas, it was not to be: ‘Rob, will you entertain Gary while I get me essentials?’ Mark asked their mutual colleague after another open-mouthed kiss, and Gary's heart skipped a beat in anticipation. What were they going to do now?

Mark nimbly got off the bed at a resounding ‘Yes, boss’ from Robbie and gathered something from one of his open suitcases while Robbie continued jerking Gary off on his lonesome. (Which Robbie was very competent at, thank you very much — they even exchanged some cigarette-flavoured kisses.)

When Mark returned, he was holding a big ( _big_!) toy and some lube.

_Oh God._

‘Don't worry,’ Mark told a nervous-looking Gary; lube Gary liked, but toys he was rather apprehensive about. ‘The toy’s for me, not _you_.’

Mark deliberately licked his lips as he hopped onto the writing desk. Naked. It was then that Gary noticed that the mirror behind Mark gave Gary not only an excellent view of Mark’s back, but also of himself, and of Robbie jerking him off. It was with delight that Gary saw how fucking good he looked, naked on Mark’s bed. His face was flushed and his hair was all messy, but _God_ did he wonder what it would look like to watch himself be fucked.

‘Gary?’ said Mark, snapping Gary out of his filthy trail of thought, ‘I want you to watch me play with meself so you'll become all the more desperate for fucking me. How's that sound?’ he added rhetorically, his eyes shining with delight. ‘Please keep Gary’s cock nice and hard for me, Rob.’

_Jesus. So this is what Mark and Robbie got up to._

Mark lifted his legs up high and rested his feet on the chair Gary had previously sat on so that his two lovers could see what he was doing with his hands — and everything else! It was quite an unflattering angle, but secretly Robbie loved how much it was making his mate look like a porn star. All they needed now was a camera, and the picture would be complete. (But they didn’t do that sort of thing.) Gary was mostly worried about the poor maid who’d have to clean the desk in the morning.

Mark squirted the contents of the bottle of lube onto his hands and abundantly covered his entrance with it before slowly slipping in a finger – and another, wildly imagining that Gary was the one doing the fingering with those long pianist fingers of his. Once he’d found a steady pace and seated himself a bit more comfortably on the cold desk, Mark started rubbing his cock up and down while fingering himself at the same time.

Robbie and Gary had both fantasized about seeing Mark pleasure himself – and once or twice they had even been lucky enough to witness it for real – but this was something else. This was pure, unadulterated _porn_.

At the end of the day, Mark just loved being watched. Naturally, if he didn’t enjoy people watching him he’d have a hard time being in this industry of theirs, but Mark actually got off on it. He squeezed Gary’s bum in public and danced with Robbie to _The Flood_ during live performances because it gave him a thrill that was beyond compare. Casual viewers would blindly assume that it was just the boys being overly fond of each other — but Mark knew better. _They_ – the three of them – knew better. A random loving glance on stage wasn’t a choreographed action; it was real and had intent, and the fact that no-one else could regard it as such made Mark want to do it over and over again.

Mark tilted back his head — a half-frown on his face as though he had landed squarely between the boundaries of pain and pleasure, his mouth open wide in a perfect “O”. He was breathing heavily, and occasionally a whimper escaped his lips.

As Gary watched Mark push his fingers in and out, in and out a little less slowly than before, Robbie’s lips had returned to Gary’s cock, sucking him off in an excruciatingly high tempo while applying just the mildest pressure on Gary’s balls with his fingers. Gary found his hands suddenly grasping Robbie’s hair, pushing his lover down ever so gently. It was almost as though they were back in the studio to lay down the finishing touches on their EP, fine-tuned into one another’s desires while they slowly worked towards a common goal. The idea that the three of them gelled so well even after years of not speaking to each other was the biggest turn-on Gary could ever have dreamed of.

‘Wish this was you, Gary.’ Mark slowly licked the lube off his hands finger for finger, and Gary unconsciously lifted his hips further towards Robbie’s mouth. Robbie eagerly relaxed his jaw until his nose hit Gary’s pubes, and Gary’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. A group of drunk tourists passed their window on the first floor, but he hardly noticed.  

He just wanted more. He wanted Robbie to swallow him whole. He wanted to see Mark fuck himself with that toy, opening himself wide before the two of them. He wished he could stay in this hotel forever, and not have his blissful morning be ruined by nosy journalists and fans keen to take a picture with them on the steps of the hotel. 

Gary was vaguely aware of asking Mark to fuck himself, and Mark happily obeyed; the sight of Mark pushing that big toy inside of him, his pretty little legs spread wide, was enough to make that blissful, familiar feeling tickle the back of Gary’s stomach. He could never quite describe how ridiculously good it felt. Mark pushed the toy yet further in and moaned obscenely – no doubt deliberately – and the feeling in Gary’s stomach got stronger still as Robbie swirled his tongue around the head of his cock.

He was in a hotel in Amsterdam with his two best mates. Shagging.

The tingle was getting more and more intense. A groan escaped Gary’s slips. The strong scent of freshly washed linen mixed with sweat and shampoo hit his nose. Pre-cum trickled down Robbie’s fingers. Stars danced in front of Gary’s eyes.

He couldn’t do this.

Overwhelmed by it all, Gary gently pushed Robbie away from him, followed by a series of apologies.

It was all just too much.

‘You okay, Captain?’ asked Robbie, sitting up straight. He wiped the saliva and pre-cum off his chin in a strangely attractive fashion and eyed Gary worriedly. Like Mark, he’d more than once witnessed Gary’s nerves during a love-making session. Usually it was rather endearing, but sometimes it could seriously hinder his performance. No matter how many times the both of them told Gary how utterly good he felt, it never really took away the fact that Gary was sometimes a bit of a wreck when it came to sex.

When Mark casually mentioned the subject several months ago, Robbie just assumed it was because Gary was still getting to grips with his sexuality. Mark argued it was because Gary was just a bit of a prude, and he was okay with that.

They were both wrong.

Mark got off the writing desk slowly and set about uncorking Gary’s bottle of wine. Unaffected by the sweet smell of red wine that suddenly filled his nostrils, he sat on the edge of the bed and handed Gary the entire bottle. He couldn’t be arsed to find a glass, and Gary would probably want to drink himself silly anyway.

They looked a mess, the three of them: Mark’s short hair was ruffled. His chest was absolutely covered in sweat. Robbie, his lips red and puffy, was looking at the bottle of wine as though he was in a staring contest with it. Gary looked like a nervous wreck, a pillow placed in his lap to pointlessly cover up his hard-on. His cheeks were burning red.

‘Gaz,’ Robbie reiterated, his eyes on Gary now, ‘Are you okay?’

‘Y-yeah,’ said Gary shakily, drinking large gulps of wine to calm his nerves. He didn’t usually drink this much; on most days he was content just having a quick nightcap before heading to bed, and he’d made it a rule to avoid drinking on weekdays altogether. ‘It’s just —’ Another gulp. Already, his body seemed to be floating contently on wave after wave of alcohol, washing away his anxieties. ‘You’re all so bloody attractive and I’m scared that I’ll come too soon or be too inexperienced and ruin it all.’

‘You’re not inexperienced!’ Robbie exclaimed as though he was personally offended by the remark.

Mark nodded in agreement and firmly grabbed Gary’s hand. Mark’s hand still felt wet and sticky, but Gary didn’t seem to mind; if anything, it kind of turned him on.

‘Stop saying things like that, you idiot. You’re perfect.’ Mark said gently, and he meant it; Rob and Gary were the most wonderful, beautiful men he knew. He motioned Gary to take another sip of wine, and Gary did so. ‘You’re not going to ruin anything. Right, Rob?’

Robbie kissed Gary’s collarbone. ‘Righto.’ And again. ‘So what’d you think of Mark’s little show?’

‘Fucking amazing,’ Gary mumbled shyly. Seeing Mark touch himself like that was one of Gary’s wildest dreams come true, and part of him wished _he_ had the courage to masturbate in front of his mates like that. His head felt dizzy just thinking about it.

‘Hang on,’ Gary added a few seconds later, glancing at the bottle of wine in his hand as though he’d only just remembered having bought it, ‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’

‘We’re living our previous lives as alcoholics through you,’ said Rob matter-of-factly. The bottle looked tempting, yes, but deep down he had no intention of drinking alcohol ever again. He generally wasn’t a very enjoyable person to be around when he was drunk, and he knew that Mark wasn’t either; it just made them sad, alcohol did. ‘ _You’ve_ never _done_ toys, have you, Gaz?’

Gary shook his head.

‘You big virgin,’ Robbie jested. ‘So who _was_ the first guy you fucked?’

More wine. Gary was becoming increasingly more aware of the fact that they were all naked and horny in Mark’s bed.

‘That was Mark, that,’ said Gary, almost inaudibly. Feeling rather embarrassed to only have lost his “second virginity” quite so recently (and to one of his bandmates!), he wondered if he might end up in the canal if he jumped out of the window with a high enough trajectory. Then again, he might want to consider picking up his boxers on the way to the window sill first.

‘Yes, and we’re not discussing that,’ was Mark quick to reply, much to Gary’s relief. As much as Mark loved Robbie, the night he and Gary had first had sex was sacred territory; it was something that only he and Gary knew about, and he wanted to keep it that way.

He’d probably never forget the way Gary looked at him when Mark had half-drunkenly confessed his feelings for him. He’d never forget that he literally to had hold Gary tight to stop him from shaking while he made love to him on the sofa in the recording studio. Gary had been so nervous that night; it was as though Gary had been waiting for Mark to confess to him ever since they met — and he _had_. Likewise, Mark would never tell Gary that he first fucked Robbie after they had handed over the stage to him at _Children in Need Rocks_ back in late 2009 — and that it had been in an empty toilet in the Royal Albert Hall because they could not wait any longer. Those moments, however brief or wrong, meant something to him.

 _This_ moment here, with his two lovers, _meant_ something.

‘Put your head on here.’ Mark traded Gary’s half-full bottle of wine for a comfortable pillow and told Gary to lie on his back again. Gary did so, but not without doubts; he had absolutely no idea what was going to happen next, and the annoying thing was that both Mark and Rob _did_.

Gary was still covering his cock with another pillow.

‘Um.’ Gary croaked uncertainly. He looked up at Robbie, who was now sitting on his knees beside him. His cock was dangling closely to Gary’s face, which was a tad intimidating. Gary tried to focus on one of the curtains that had been drawn shut instead. It was the same colour as the carpet, a pastel sort of yellow. Gary wouldn’t mind taking the curtains home with him, but some members of staff might notice. ‘What now?’

Mark prised the view-blocking pillow out of Gary’s grasp, threw it on the floor next to one of his suitcases and spat on Gary’s cock, which made Gary release a long, content sigh. He felt Robbie’s fingers in his hair, and Gary had a feeling he wasn’t going to have much choice in the matter of their proceedings.

 _God, they were close._ He could literally smell the cigarettes on Rob, and feel the heat radiating off Mark’s tiny frame. Any closer and they’d melt together.

Mark smiled at Gary naughtily. It was the smile that Gary knew meant trouble. ‘I’m going to ride you.’

_Ah._

He had never done that before. Mark liked pinning Gary to the matrass. Mark liked bending him over the studio desk and fucking him from behind while another one of their new songs played in the background. If he felt like being topped and dominated, Mark had Robbie. Robbie was good at that; Gary generally wasn’t, or so Gary thought.

‘Open up.’

Before Gary could so much process the meaning of Mark’s words, Robbie had already slipped his cock inside Gary’s mouth rather rigorously and started thrusting his hips back and forth. For a second Gary was too busy focussing on trying to relax his jaw to notice that Mark had climbed his lap and covered his cock in lube. Then a mind-blowingly stimulating heat wrapped itself around him, and Gary opened his eyes to see Mark riding him.

_Fuck, that looked good._

Mark was riding his cock like a slut, rolling his hips and bopping up and down Gary’s cock like a fucking cowboy on a mechanical bull. His right hand was busy working his own cock while his left crept up Gary’s chest, where it twisted Gary’s nipples with his nimble fingers. As usual, he was moaning pornographically loudly, and for a moment Gary and Robbie both feared that someone would knock on the door and ask them to shut the hell up.

Then Gary saw the image of his lovers reflected in the writing desk mirror – Mark’s sweat-covered back, hips, and arse, moving back and forth fast; Mark’s left hand, momentarily abandoning Gary’s chest to slap Robbie’s arse; Robbie’s cock inside his mouth – and everything was just so _perfect_.

‘Christ, you’re tight,’ groaned Gary, panting for breath.

Robbie rubbed his pulsing cock against Gary’s unshaved jaw and then found his way into Gary’s mouth again. Mark and Robbie kissed each other sloppily. Saliva trickled down Gary’s chin.

Gary arched his back, creeping closer and closer to the edge. Robbie squeezed his right hand affectionately. 

‘Oh my God, you guys, I love you so much,’ Mark purred. His movements were becoming erratic. Robbie’s thrusts too were starting to become uneven and predictable, and more than once did his cock flop of Gary’s saliva-covered mouth.

The double sensation of Mark riding his cock and having his mouth thoroughly fucked by Robbie was too much to bear: after only a couple of minutes Gary shot his hot load into Mark’s arse; shortly after, Mark released his orgasm all over Gary’s chest with a series of whimpered _Oh my Gods_. A minute later, Gary managed to swallow most of Robbie’s cum — the rest was licked off his chin and lips by Mark.

The boys collapsed onto the bed together and lay there catching their breaths until it was Gary who finally spoke up. In the few minutes that had elapsed since their lovemaking session and this moment here, wrapped up into each other’s arms, Gary decided that maybe he should let go of his reservations a little bit. Be more daring.

‘I’ve not packed extra underwear,’ said he, all thoughtfully. Robbie frowned at this, but he decided not to say anything and rubbed Mark’s belly instead, precisely where his tattoo was.

Mark rested his head on Gary’s chest contently. ‘No problem, I’ve packed an extra item of everything in me suitcase.’

Gary took a deep breath. His head was spinning.

‘You’ve . . . not packed an extra toy, have you?’


End file.
